Call And Answer
by RowArk
Summary: AU w/curse: After a random prank phone call in 1996, Emma begins calling Regina regularly throughout her teenage years, though they never meet in person. They form a long distance connection over the phone, but how long before Regina figures out exactly who she's talking to? And will they recognize each other when the grown up Savior returns to Storybrooke? Eventual SwanQueen
1. Chapter 1

**Call And Answer**

By RowArk

* * *

 **Chapter One**

* * *

 **Minnesota, August 1996**

* * *

"Truth or dare?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Dare, _obviously,_ " she replied. She'd never once picked truth in her life, and she wasn't about to start now.

The red-haired girl sitting across from her, Stephanie, grinned. "Okay. I dare you to dial a random number and prank call them."

Emma rolled her eyes again. "Prank call? Seriously? That's baby stuff."

"I double dare you to make the call out of state!" another girl, Lexie, cried out.

Emma bit her lip. "What if I get in trouble?" They weren't supposed to use to the phone in the group home without permission, period, and she wondered what would happen if she were caught calling a stranger long distance in the middle of the night.

Lexie laughed, covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to keep quiet, her dark curly hair bouncing with the motion. "That's the point, isn't? What good is a dare if you're not scared to do it?"

"I'm not scared of anything!" Emma insisted, as she got up to head down to the phone. The other girls in the room stifled their giggles as they got up to follow behind her, as quiet as they could.

Emma drew in a deep breath as she reached the phone in the dim light of the main floor. None of the group home workers seemed to be up or around, so she figured she was in the clear.

She picked up the receiver and began to dial.

The number wasn't _exactly_ random. She knew the area code for Maine by heart, though she'd never dared to call there before. She often wondered what the odds were that she could call and reach her birth parents by complete accident. She knew it was a silly thought, but she punched in the area code anyway.

The numbers that followed made a sort of pattern on the keys, but she didn't really pay attention to the numbers.

Emma held her breath as the phone began to ring, wondering what time it might be in Maine. She couldn't remember if the east coast was ahead of or behind Minnesota, and she hoped she wasn't waking someone up in the middle of the night.

After four rings, she heard a voice come through the receiver: _Hello, you've reached Regina Mills. I can't come to the phone right now, so please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you._

"Answering machine," Emma mouthed to the girls watching her in anticipation.

"So leave a message!" Stephanie whispered, grinning excitedly.

Emma heard the beep, and suddenly realized she hadn't thought of anything to say, so she began rattling off the first classic prank call she could think of: "Uhmmm… hi… is your refridgerator running? 'Cause you better go out and catch it!"

Emma slammed the phone down, her heart pounding, as she looked at the other girls for their approval.

"Oh my God, Emma! You're so lame!" Lexie laughed.

"Girls! What are you doing down here?"

The girls spun around to face Tracie, one of the nicer workers at this home, all of them looking incredibly guilty.

"Nothing," Emma lied. "I just… wanted a glass of water."

"Yeah, and she was scared to come down here alone," Lexie added.

Tracie narrowed her eyes, looking at the girls like she didn't really believe them. "Bed. Now. It's after midnight."

The girls all nodded and took off up the stairs, just relieved that they hadn't gotten into any real trouble from Tracie.

Upstairs, the girls tried to hold back their giggles as they got into their beds.

"So, who was it? A guy? Did he sound hot?" Stephanie asked, looking excitedly at Emma. At fourteen, Stephanie was the oldest of the girls, and though Emma would be thirteen in October, she didn't really have boys on the the brain like the rest of the girls her age seemed to.

"No. A woman," Emma replied.

"Oh, bummer," Stephanie sighed, rolling over onto her back at looking away from Emma.

"Even if it was a guy it's not like Emma would ever meet him!" Lexie pointed out.

"You never know," Stephanie said, with a shrug.

Emma sighed. She had no idea how to tell these girls that though it might not have been a hot sounding guy on the phone, there was something about that voice she'd just heard, that made her want to hear it again. But she knew she couldn't tell them that, or they'd just think she was weirder than they already did.

So she closed her eyes and replayed the pattern she'd dialed into the keypad in her mind, committing it to memory, though she was quite sure she wasn't going to be calling it again.

* * *

 **Storybooke**

* * *

Regina was on her way out the door the next morning when she noticed the blinking light on her answering machine. She hadn't noticed it the night before, and she wondered if someone had called during the night, though it seemed strange that anyone would.

She clicked play and noted the timestamp on the call: _1:18am_

" _Uhmmm… hi…. is your refridgerator running-"_

Regina rolled her eyes and hit stop before the message could finish, already well aware of where it was going. To date, she'd never received a prank phone call, but her curse gave her enough knowledge of this world to know the classic ones.

She shook her head, wondering which wayward child of Storybrooke had been bored in the middle of the night, and truly wondered who would be brave enough to call the Mayor. She'd heard of call display, but hadn't really had a reason to acquire it, to date. She wasn't even really sure why she'd bothered with the answering machine, if she was being completely honest, since no one ever called her at home, anyway.

She grabbed her keys and headed out the door, quickly forgetting she'd even received a call at all.

* * *

 **Minnesota, September/October 1996**

* * *

Nearly a month had passed before Emma thought about the voice on the answering machine again. She had moved from the group home to a new foster home with five other kids and parents who worked a lot.

And that phone was just so tempting.

But she resisted the urge - for a while. A few times she dialed nearly all the digits and forced herself to hang up. A few times after that, she became more bold, and hung up after " _Hello, you've reached Regina Mills."_ She only ever seemed to get the answering machine, and truthfully, she was okay with that, since she was sure she would just hang up if the actual Regina Mills actually answered.

One night, however, near the end of October, Emma waited until she heard the tone at the end of the recording. Coincidentally, it was the night of her thirteenth birthday, in a new city where she had no friends, and in a relatively new home where she'd yet to bond with anyone, and her foster parents forgot her birthday anyway. Emma was lonely.

And bored.

So she made the call.

And this time when she got the answering machine, she left a message. She rattled on about being a reporter and hearing that Ms Mills had a juicy story and would she like to be interviewed for the eleven o'clock news? She wasn't quite sure where the inspiration came from, but she talked until the machine cut her off.

And somehow, she felt satisfied.

* * *

 **Storybrooke, October/November 1996**

* * *

Regina had come to hate that blinking light on her answering machine. Since October 23rd, the thirteenth anniversary of her Dark Curse, she'd noted, she'd been receiving multiple prank messages a week, apparently from a very bored young girl with too much free time on her hands.

And it was driving her nuts.

This girl called at random hours throughout the day, always when Regina was at work, and she'd come home to another message with a fake name and a ridiculous reason for calling, which she would always explain, in length, until the machine cut her off.

At first, it was just plain aggravating, and Regina rarely listened to the messages in their entirety, but as time went on, she noted that the girl seemed to be growing more confident, and her messages seemed more planned out and rehearsed. Some of them were even funny, Regina had to admit, and she'd find herself chuckling away until the the abrupt mid-sentence end to the message, when she'd suddenly realize she was supposed to be annoyed by this and delete the message.

Well, most of them. Some she listened to a couple times first. And some she kept.

In spite of herself, Regina almost found it endearing. Almost.

Still, in late November, after nearly a month of messages, Regina had call display installed on her phone line, intent to catch the young culprit and put an end to this nonsense. What she hadn't expected was the number to show up with a Minnesota area code.

This threw her off. A child in Storybrooke could have been handled easily enough, but Regina hadn't even realized that Storybrooke was able to receive phone calls from outside of the town line. It was a disturbing discovery, to say the least, that the town was not quite as secure as she'd thought it was.

As fate would have it, the very next day, for the first time since the calls had started, Regina was home when the phone rang. She glanced at the number and picked it up on the first ring.

"Hello. To whom might I be speaking today?" she asked, wondering which alias the girl had come up with for this call.

From the other end of the line, she heard a distinct "uhh…" before a click, and a dial tone. It appeared the girl was not as confident as Regina had thought. But that was no reason to back down, she reasoned. She wanted the calls to stop, and she was about to ensure that they would.

* * *

Emma's face blanched when that familiar voice answered the phone on the first ring. She'd gotten so used to the machine, it had never occurred to her that there was still an actual _person_ living in that house, hearing those messages, and who, one day, would happen to be home when Emma called.

She cringed after hanging up the phone, silently berating herself for being so stupid, and wondering what the odds were that this lady had traced her number and would be calling the police. Were prank calls illegal? Emma wasn't even sure, but she guessed she could likely get in trouble either way.

Emma's stomach was already in knots when the phone rang suddenly, making her jump. The foster family didn't have call display, but she already had a sinking suspicion of who might be calling right now.

And if Regina Mills had their number, it was only a matter of time before she called and got Emma's foster parents.

Emma picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hello dear. Please don't hang up on me this time until I'm through. I've had to listen to you enough times, don't you think? It's time you paid me the same courtesy."

Emma swallowed hard. "Okay."

"First of all, how did you get this number?"

"Um, it was just random," Emma said, feeling like she might cry as the word vomit started to pour out. "We were playing truth or dare and I always pick dare and they dared me to make a call out of state so I did and left a message and then, I don't know, I started calling again and I'm sorry please don't call the police!"

There was a notable pause on the other end before Regina spoke again. "I'm not going to call the police. I should speak to your parents, however."

"I don't have parents. Just foster parents. New ones, and they already don't like me," Emma said, hoping she might win some sympathy by playing the orphan card.

"I see. Well, I should speak to your foster parents, but I won't on one condition: you stop calling me. Understood?"

Emma nodded, quickly, before realizing that this woman couldn't see her. "Yes, ma'am. I promise. Never again. I swear!"

"Good. Because it's annoying and very frustrating to receive these messages nearly every day. You may think you're being funny, but you're not. My time is valuable and you've insisted on wasting it."

"I'm sorry," Emma said, again, just wishing for this conversation to end.

"Alright. Goodbye, young lady. And find a new hobby."

With that, Regina Mills hung up the phone, and Emma let out the breath she didn't even know she was holding. Despite the fact that Regina had just said she wouldn't call her parents, Emma still felt sick to her stomach as she bolted up the stairs and dove on to her bed, burying her head under her pillow and wishing she could just disappear.

* * *

"Emma?"

Emma jumped up at the sound of her foster mother, Carol's voice. She spun around on her bed to face Carol, who was holding a piece of paper in her hand and looking at it confused.

"Yeah?" Emma asked, not sure what was going on.

"Did you make seventeen phone calls to a number in Maine between October 23rd and today?" Carol asked, turning the paper so that Emma could see it was a phone bill, and Regina Mills' number appeared on the page several times.

Emma felt her heart drop to her stomach. "No?" she lied. "I don't know anyone in Maine, why would I do that?"

"I don't know," Carol said. "But four out of six children in this house are too young to use the phone, and this trend seems to have started shortly after you arrived here, so what am I supposed to think?"

"I don't know. It wasn't me," Emma said, with a shrug.

"I see," Carol nodded. "Maybe I should give this number a call then, and see who it is?"

Emma shrugged again, though she could feel herself starting to panic. She kept her voice as even as possible as she replied. "Maybe you should."

Carol raised an eyebrow, and glanced at the clock. "Oh, shoot, I have to go pick up Felicity. I want you to stay put, you hear me? I'm calling this number when I get back, and if you're lying to me, you're going to be in big trouble, understand?"

Emma bit her lip and nodded, knowing she was going to be in for it now. She felt the panic kick in the moment she heard Carol's car start in the driveway, as her mind raced with ideas on how to fix this. Her first instinct was the same as always: run. But it was nearly the end of November and already snowing and she had no place to go. She needed another solution.

Somehow, through the millions of terrible ideas running through her head, Emma's brain finally landed on the most terrible one possible: she decided to call Regina.

* * *

Regina sighed when she heard her phone ring again, just two hours since her conversation with the young girl from Minnesota. She was sure her eyes must be deceiving her when she saw the number on the display, because there was certainly _no way_ this girl was calling her again.

But sure enough, she was.

"I thought I made myself clear, earlier?" Regina said, in lieu of a greeting when she answered the phone.

"I'm sorry! But this is really, really important!" Emma insisted, and Regina could hear the panic in her voice.

She let out a sigh, and then spoke. "What on earth can be so important that you need to call a stranger in another state?"

"Um… did you know that long distance phone numbers show up on the phone bill?" Emma asked.

"Yes, dear. I take it you did not?"

"No! And my foster mother got the bill and asked me and I said I didn't do it but she doesn't believe me!"

"I wonder why not? Perhaps because you're lying?"

"I know! But here's the thing: she's really mad and I don't wanna get kicked out of another foster home. She's gonna call you when she gets back from picking up one of the other kids. Can you, like, I don't know… say you never got any calls from this number?"

Regina let out an exasperated sigh. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"I don't know! But can you? Please?"

Every ounce of logic in Regina's brain told her to hang up on this pestering child now, and tell her foster mother everything when she called, but there was an underlying tone of pure panic in the girl's voice, and somewhere deep inside, Regina couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

"Fine."

"Really?"

"Yes. But you have to stop with the phone calls now, understood?"

"Yes! I promise!" Emma insisted. "Thank you! Bye"

"Goodbye, dear."

* * *

Emma breathed a long sigh of relief when she hung up the phone. She was pretty good at picking up on lies, and Regina Mills seemed to be telling the truth.

Confirmation of that came just under an hour later, when Carol stepped back into Emma's room.

"So, Emma, I guess I owe you an apology. I just got off the phone with the woman in Maine, and she claims she hasn't received any phone calls from Minnesota, and she doesn't know anyone here. I suppose I'll have to call the phone company and report the error. Anyway, I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

Emma gave her a half-hearted smile. "It's okay. I probably wouldn't believe the new kid, either," she said with a shrug.

Emma fell back on her bed when Carol left the room, finally able to really breathe again. This whole fiasco was over, and she vowed to herself she wouldn't be making anymore prank phone calls.

And yet, somewhere deep inside, she was sure she still wanted to hear Regina Mills' voice again. She shook her head, telling herself she was just going to have to forget about her, forget her number, and move on with her life like a normal thirteen year old. She'd promised Regina she wouldn't call again, and she intended to keep that promise.

On the other hand, Regina had just lied for her, and saved her from getting into trouble when she really didn't have to. Maybe she should just call, one last time, as a thank you?

"No, Emma," she mumbled to herself. "You're not calling her again."

And even as she said the words aloud, Emma knew she was lying to herself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

 **Storybrooke, February 1997**

* * *

In the three months since their last conversation, Regina would have been lying to herself if she said she hadn't missed the messages from her nameless young stalker, just a little. Life in Storybrooke was monotonous at best, and it got to her more than she'd expected it would. As annoying as the messages were, they were at least something _different_ in her daily routine.

She wondered if maybe she shouldn't have been so quick to put a stop to them.

Then again, she was sure they probably would have stopped, regardless, upon this foster mother receiving her phone bill, so perhaps it was for the best.

There was, however, one thing that the girl had said that Regina had yet to be able to get out of her head: _I don't wanna get kicked out of another foster home._

It was the 'another' that Regina found most troubling. How many homes had this girl been kicked out of, to elicit such a panic? Storybrooke didn't have a foster system, but Regina had gained enough knowledge of this world through her curse to know that the system had its glaring flaws, and many children slipped through the cracks. She couldn't help but wonder if that was the fate of this poor young girl.

Regina thought about that voice on the phone more than she'd expected she would, which is why when her phone rang late one Friday evening in snowy mid-February, and she saw an unfamiliar number with a Minnesota area code, she decided to answer.

"Hello?"

There was a long pause - long enough that Regina had to wonder if this was a whole new type of prank calls starting up - and then, finally, a tiny "hi."

Regina smiled to herself, as she settled back against the sofa where she had been sitting in front of the fire with her wine, a warm afghan covering her legs. "Hello, dear. I really didn't expect to hear from you again, since our last conversation."

"Yeah, sorry," the girl responded, but didn't elaborate any further.

Regina sighed. She was glad to hear from the child again, but she'd prefer it if she'd actually _say_ something. "Are you planning on telling me why you're calling? Or were you hoping to get the machine?"

"I was kind of hoping to get the machine," the girl admitted. "But I wasn't going to leave a joke message."

"No? What were you planning on saying then? Whatever it is, you may as well just say it to me now."

There was another pause before the girl spoke again, and Regina wondered if she was trying to find the courage to say whatever she wanted to say. Regina knew she was intimidating on a good day, but she found she had no desire to frighten this girl.

"Um… I uh… I ended up getting kicked out of that foster home anyway," the girl said, finally. "Not because of the phone calls or anything, but um… I just… I just wanted to say thank you, I guess."

"Thank you? For what, dear?" Regina asked.

"For trying to help me out, when my foster mother called you. You didn't have to lie for me, and, honestly, asking you to was kind of a long shot. It's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. So, thank you."

Regina drew in a sharp breath, and felt a stinging pain in her heart. How on earth could _that_ have been the nicest thing anyone had ever done for this girl?

"You're welcome, dear. And I'm sorry you got kicked out of your home," Regina said, trying to keep her voice even, in an attempt to not betray her emotions. "Aren't you worried about making long distance calls where you are now?"

"Nope! This new family has a long distance plan, and they said I can use the phone. I mean, I'm thirteen, so I guess they kind of expect it. I just said I have a friend in Maine, and they said that's fine."

"A friend in Maine?" Regina repeated with a small chuckle, before realizing that this girl's attempt to cover up who she was calling likely meant that she intended call again. "What about your real friends, dear? Friends your own age."

"Don't got any. I don't stay in one place long enough to make real friends. And most places don't really give me phone privileges, so…"

"I see. So does that mean I can expect more calls from you?" Regina asked, before she realized what she was actually saying. Once she'd said it, however, she realized she really hoped that the answer was yes.

"Oh, um, I hadn't really thought about that. Would that be okay? Like, you won't get mad?"

"I won't get mad as long as you aren't leaving prank messages on my machine while I'm at work," Regina replied, still smiling in spite of herself.

"Oh. Then yeah, maybe I'll call you again. I don't really have people to talk to, you know?"

"What's your name, dear?" Regina asked, realizing suddenly that this girl knew her full name, from the answering machine greeting, and Regina knew nothing about her, other than her age.

"I can't tell you that! You're a stranger," the girl replied, with an unmistakably challenging lilt to her voice.

"I'm hardly a stranger when you know my full name," Regina countered, her smile turning into a grin as she took another sip of wine, fully aware that this was the most interesting conversation she'd had with anyone in years.

"Well… I can't _tell_ you, but you could try to guess," the girl offered.

Regina shook her head, chuckling again. "I see. Will you tell me if I guess right?"

"Maybe."

"May I have a clue?"

"It's a girl's name."

"That's helpful. May I have a useful clue?"

"Ummmm…. it's starts with a vowel."

"Emily."

"No."

"Astrid."

"Nope."

"Evelyn."

"What? No!"

"Elenor."

"Seriously. Are you even trying? Do you want another clue?"

"Yes please," Regina said with a grin.

"It also ends with a vowel."

Regina sighed, knowing that that really didn't narrow down the options all that much.

"Amanda."

"Nope."

"Alyssa."

"No. You have one vowel right and one vowel wrong."

"Which one is right?"

"Uh uh, this is like the Price is Right. You only get to know one is right and one is wrong, not which one is which."

Regina rolled her eyes. She'd never actually watched the Price is Right, but she thought that the odds were likely best that the 'a' at the end was the correct vowel. That was the logic she planned to go with, anyway.

"Ella."

"Ooooh _so_ close."

Regina smiled, knowing that unless this girl was named after Etta James, she was fairly confident her next guess would be right.

"Emma."

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner!" Emma said, with a laugh.

"Emma," Regina repeated, again. "That's a very pretty name."

"You think so? It's the only thing my birth parents ever gave me, before they gave me up."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Emma."

"It is what it is, right?"

"I suppose…"

* * *

Emma sat cross-legged on the bed at her new foster home. She shared with two other girls, both of whom were older than her, and out on a Friday night. She didn't mind, since it gave her some privacy to do the one thing she'd been trying to work up the courage to do since November.

And now that she was on the phone with Regina Mills, listening to her guess name after name, Emma wondered why she'd waited so long to finally call.

"Emma."

Emma's heart skipped a beat when she heard Regina's voice saying her name. She couldn't help but laugh as she informed her she'd finally guessed right. She wasn't sure exactly what normal thirteen year old girls were supposed to do on a Friday night, but she was quite content exactly where she was. And Regina had said it was okay to call again.

"Emma. That's a very pretty name."

Emma wasn't sure exactly how to tell Regina that it only sounded pretty when she said it. She also wasn't sure how to tell her that she thought Regina was a pretty name too, without sounding like a total weirdo. So she deflected.

"You think so? It's the only thing my birth parents ever gave me, before they gave me up."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Emma."

"It is what it is, right?"

"I suppose…"

Emma bit her lip. She hadn't meant to drag this conversation down so quickly, but that tended to be what happened whenever she brought up the topic of her birth parents. She couldn't help it; even after thirteen years, it was still raw, and she knew it must come through in her voice.

She needed to change the subject.

"So, ummmm…. are you married?" she asked, thinking this was probably as normal a question as any to ask an adult, though in her own mind, she'd already decided that Regina Mills was _not_ married, due to the lack of a husband's name on her answering machine greeting.

"No."

Emma smiled to herself, proud of herself for getting that one right. "Kids? And don't say 'no, because I'm not married' because I know how these things work."

"I'm sure you do. No, no kids."

No husband. No kids. Emma was pretty sure she could figure out why Regina didn't mind her calling now. She was probably lonely, a feeling Emma knew all too well.

"How come? You don't want them?"

"I… It's not that I don't want children. I'm just not so sure a child would want me."

"Why? You seem alright…. you're not like, crazy or something, are you?"

Regina laughed again. "If I was, do you think I would tell you?"

"Uhhh…"

"I'm not crazy."

"Yeah, sure. That's what a crazy person would say," Emma pointed out.

"Is it now? What might a sane person say?" Regina asked.

"I dunno. Never met one."

"Well, my dear, I think you and I may have that in common," Regina said with a small laugh.

Emma found she kind of liked being able to make Regina laugh. It was rare that she ever held anyone's undivided attention, let alone the attention of an adult, so it was refreshing to know that Regina seemed to be enjoying the conversation as well.

Emma was certain she would be calling again. And probably often.

"So tell me, Emma, what was it that got you kicked out of your previous home?"

Emma sighed. She hadn't exactly wanted to get into that, but then again, she never really had anyone to talk to about these kinds of things. She had her case worker, but she was overloaded with cases and didn't always have time for her.

"Well... most of these homes, they treat kids like me as a meal ticket."

"Kids like you?"

"Yeah. Older kids. The ones that are never gonna get adopted. They take them in, get some money from the government, and then when they're too much trouble, they send them back. My file says I have 'behavioural issues', so that's a red flag. I don't really stand a chance anyplace I go, you know?"

"Behavioural issues? Like making prank phone calls?"

Emma grinned. "No, that was a special thing, just for you."

"Well, I'm honoured," Regina said, laughing again.

"Behavioural issues in that I sometimes lie, and I run away, and…" Emma let her voice trail off, not wanting to mention petty theft in the list. She didn't particularly want Regina to decide she wasn't worth it and hang up. "And sometimes get in fights. Those kinds of issues."

"I see. I had a stepdaughter once, about your age. Those things don't sound so much like behavioural issues as they do normal child behaviour, from my experience anyway."

"What happened to your stepdaughter?"

"Nothing," Regina said quietly, almost sounding disappointed, though Emma couldn't guess why. "My marriage to her father… ended, and she and I were never close. She was a spoiled little princess."

"I know the type," Emma said, nodding her understanding. "Her loss, I guess."

"I suppose. Tell me dear, do you not have a bedtime?" Regina asked, glancing at the clock on her wall. It was after one a.m. in Storybrooke, which meant it was past midnight in Minnesota.

"I guess, but no one is home so no one's here to make me go to bed," Emma replied, proudly.

"They leave you home alone?"

Emma shrugged. "It's not like I'm a little kid. I can take care of myself. The other girls are supposed to be home, but they snuck out after the parents left. They're sixteen and seventeen and they don't want me tagging along with them, so yeah, I'm home alone."

"Well, since apparently I've just become the only responsible adult in your life, I'm telling you it's time to go to bed."

"Oh yeah?" Emma said. "How are you gonna make me? You're not even in this state."

"Don't underestimate me, dear."

Emma chewed on her lip, wondering if she should challenge this woman further, or do as she said. On one hand, she wasn't too keen on following instructions, but on the other, she didn't really want to make Regina Mills hate her after one phone call.

"I'm not tired," Emma said, finally.

"I doubt that. You're thirteen, which means you had school today. It's time for bed. And if you want me to pick up the phone the next time you call, you'll do as I say, understood?"

Emma drew in a sharp breath. That was enough to snap her right out of her challenging mood. "Okay, yes, I want you to pick up the next time I call!"

"Good. Now put the phone down, brush your teeth and get ready for bed, and then come back and say goodnight to me."

Emma smiled. "You really were a mom," she commented, as she set the phone down.

* * *

Regina held the phone to her ear, listening to the silence as she waited for Emma to return to say goodnight. She was still in slight disbelief at how quickly this whole conversation had evolved, but there was just something about this girl, and the little she'd told her already, that made Regina think she desperately needed someone to care about her.

And, if Regina was being honest, she desperately needed someone to care about.

"Okay, I'm back!" Regina heard Emma's voice through the phone again. "Teeth brushed, pajamas on!"

"Good. Then I will answer the next time you call. Good night, dear."

"Wait… um… can you tell me a bedtime story?"

Regina shook her head, rolling her eyes. "I'm afraid I don't know any stories."

"Everyone knows stories!" Emma insisted.

"Good night, Emma."

"Sing me a lullaby?"

Regina paused for a moment, catching on to what was going on here. "You don't want to go to sleep alone in the house, do you?"

"No. Sometimes I have bad dreams," Emma admitted.

"I see. How about this: you say good night now, and hang up the phone, and if you have a bad dream, you may call me back."

"What if it's three in the morning?"

"Whatever time, you may call me."

"And you promise you'll answer?"

"Yes, dear. I'll leave the cordless phone by my bed, alright?"

Emma paused again. "Um… okay. Deal. And even if I don't have a bad dream I can still call you again sometime?"

"Yes, dear."

"Okay. Okay, good night."

"Good night, Emma."

Regina waited until she heard Emma hang up on her end, not wanting to hang up on the girl incase she spoke up again. And then she sighed, leaning back into the couch again, remembering the countless times she'd gone to sleep without anyone to tuck her in, because she was 'far too old to be coddled like that'.

Maybe a tad more coddling, from _someone_ , and she would have never gone down the path she'd gone down.

Either way, it was too late for that now, but maybe it wasn't too late to do right by _someone._

And maybe she could start with a girl from Minnesota...


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

It took Regina several hours to drift off that night, as a big part of her really did expect Emma to call again. When four a.m. hit and the phone hadn't rung yet, Regina decided it was safe to go to sleep, though she slept lighter than she had in years, just in case.

She had expected another phone call to come within the next couple days, but to her surprise, it was several weeks before that familiar area code showed up on her phone. Another Friday night, late, and from the same number, so Regina could only guess Emma was alone in the house, yet again.

"Hello dear," Regina said, picking up on the second ring.

"Hi," Emma replied, without delay this time, and Regina was relieved that the awkwardness from the beginning of their last conversation was apparently a thing of the past.

"I had expected to hear from you sooner."

"Oh," Emma said, sounding surprised. "I didn't want to, like, annoy you, or something. You're an adult, you probably have a life, or something."

Regina sighed. Having a life was what she _should_ be doing, but living out the same day over and over for thirteen years and counting was not as fun as she'd hoped. "Surprisingly not, dear. I am home alone on a Friday night, as I assume you are as well."

"Yup. And bored," Emma added.

"I can imagine. Well, at least we can keep each other company. Why don't you tell me something about yourself?" Regina suggested.

"Uh… there's not really anything special about me," Emma replied.

"I highly doubt that. Let's start with something easy. What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"When I was little, I used to want to be a knight, but apparently they aren't really in high demand these days. Plus I don't know how to ride a horse. So… maybe like a cop, or something?"

"A police officer is a good profession," Regina acknowledged. "A good friend of mine is the Sheriff of this town."

"Oh. What do you do?"

"I'm the Mayor," Regina stated, and Emma grinned.

"Should have known. You're all authoritative and stuff. Was that what you always wanted to do? Be a Mayor?"

"No," Regina replied, quietly. "Truthfully, actually, I always loved horses. I still do, but I used to have horses, and ride every day. All I wanted to do was marry my fiance and ride horses and raise a little family."

"Your fiance? Was that your step-daughter's father?"

"No," Regina said, bitterly. "But that's not a story for today, dear."

"Will you tell me one day?" Emma asked, hopefully, and Regina could tell the girl was perhaps still a little young to be picking up on the amount of pain that she was sure had registered in her voice just now. Either that, or she had picked up on it loud and clear and had experienced enough pain in her own life that she just wanted someone to commiserate with. Regina shuddered, guessing that the latter was probably the more accurate assumption.

"Maybe. We'll see. It's not a pleasant story," Regina admitted.

"Yeah, okay. I got a crap load of not pleasant stories I could give you, but maybe those can wait, too," Emma said.

"Tell me about this family you're with," Regina said, wanting to change the subject away from herself and her own pain as quickly as she could. "They leave you alone a lot, but are they at least good to you? Take care of you?"

"They're alright, I guess. They aren't mean or anything. But I think they're getting ready to send me back."

"How can you tell?"

"Just can. I have a sixth sense about these things… it's happened enough times by now," Emma said, nonchalantly.

"How many times?" Regina asked, unsure if she actually wanted to know the answer.

"I dunno. Lost count. But other than the first family that got me, the longest I've ever stayed in one place is four months. I'm reaching the four month mark now, so time's up I guess."

"I'm so sorry, Emma," Regina said, as she felt her heart breaking for this girl.

"Why? It's not your fault," Emma said, shrugging it off like it was nothing. "But, um, I don't know when it will happen so I don't know when I'll be able to call you again, so… just please promise you'll pick up even if you don't recognize the number? I don't even know if I'll still be in Minnesota."

"You move across state lines often?" Regina asked.

"Not really. But sometimes. I was actually born in Maine," Emma said.

"Really? Small world."

"Not really. I knew the area code before I called you the first time. I knew what state I was calling, just not whose house," Emma admitted.

"Well, I might not have thought so at the time, but I'm glad you reached me," Regina admitted.

"Me too," Emma said, through a yawn she wasn't able to suppress.

"I heard that. And it's after midnight. You know what that means."

"Time for you to send me to bed," Emma grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"That's right."

"Same deal as last time?" Emma asked.

"Yes, dear."

"Okay. Don't hang up."

"I won't."

Emma hesitated, and finally put the phone down on the bed. Regina hadn't hung up last time, so she guessed it was a safe bet that she wouldn't this time, but she still brushed her teeth and got her pajamas on in record time. "Back!" she said into the phone, grabbing it as she dove into the bed.

"Good girl. Sweet dreams, dear. And remember: you can call me if you have a bad dream, alright?" Regina reminded her.

"Uh huh," Emma said, hugging the phone close to her even as her eyes closed. She guessed she was more tired than she wanted to admit. "Good night, Regina."

"Good night, Emma."

* * *

That night, Emma dreamed the same recurring dream that had plagued her for as long as she could remember. She was in another world, in a castle, and everyone was panicking over something she didn't understand. They were running and yelling and a man told her "find us" before pushing her into a hollowed out tree trunk. When she opened her eyes again, she was alone, in the woods, wandering in circles and crying out for a mommy and daddy who never appeared.

And every time she had that dream, she'd wake up crying, more and more convinced every time that the mommy and daddy she sought really never would appear.

* * *

It was a little after three a.m. when Regina's phone rang, startling her out of her sleep. She didn't even have to look at the call display to know who was calling.

"Emma. What's wrong?" she asked into the phone, her voice husky from sleep.

"Did I wake you up?" Emma asked, timidly.

"It's alright dear. Just tell me what's wrong. Did you have a bad dream?" Regina asked, rubbing her eyes as she sat up in bed, propping herself up against her pillows.

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Emma bit her lip. She'd never told anyone about her dreams before, and though Regina was the first person to take any sort of interest in her, she wasn't sure if she was ready to go there just yet. "No. I just wanted to hear your voice again."

"I see. Well, would you like me to tell you a story to put you back to sleep?" Regina offered.

"I thought you didn't know any stories," Emma reminded her, as she settling back down into her bed, cradling the phone next to her ear.

"I may have been exaggerating a little," Regina admitted. "I do know at least one… Once upon a time there lived a young woman named Cora, who was a miller's daughter, and very poor, and this is the story of how she met an imp who could spin straw into gold."

"Rumplestiltskin," Emma said, yawning again.

"Yes. Rumplestiltskin."

"I already know this one. She guesses his name and doesn't have to give him her first born," Emma said, sounding bored.

"This version is a little different. Just listen," Regina insisted, as she went on to tell Emma the story of how her mother outsmarted the imp and became the heartless wife of a prince and mother to a baby girl, whose name Regina opted to leave out of the story.

She wasn't sure at what point Emma actually fell asleep, but it felt good, for once, to be able to talk about her mother, to someone who had no idea who or what she was really talking about.

Regina sat in silence for a few moments once her story was done, listening to Emma's rhythmic breathing through the other end of the line. She was convinced the girl was asleep, and when she whispered "Good night, Emma. Sweetest dreams," into the phone, and got no response, she decided it was time to hang up, as much as she didn't want to.

"Until next time, Emma," Regina said, aloud, as she hung up and settled back down into her bed. She glanced at the clock and realized she had been on the phone with Emma, telling her that story, for nearly an hour. Nearly an hour meant it was now five a.m. in Minnesota, and Emma was _still_ home alone, and Regina's heart hurt for her all over again.

She sighed, hoping the girl would call her again soon, and that if these parents really did send her back, that she would end up in a better situation, though Regina was quite sure that wasn't going to be the case, unfortunately.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

It had been several months since Regina had heard from Emma, and she guessed Emma was right: her time really was nearly up at that home, and they must have sent her back shortly after their last conversation. The more time that went by, the more Regina worried about where Emma might be now, and not hearing from her and having no possible way of reaching her herself was troubling.

So, of course, it was a relief when her phone rang at three a.m. on a Tuesday night.

"Emma?" Regina asked, hopefully, when she spotted the Minnesota area code with an unfamiliar number attached to it.

"Hi," Emma replied, quietly, but Regina could hear the smile in the girl's voice and instantly felt relief wash over her.

"Oh, Emma, I was worried about you."

"Really? I thought you probably forgot about me by now," Emma responded, the surprise quite evident in her voice. Regina supposed Emma was probably used to being forgotten by now, and, like it did nearly every time they spoke, she felt her heart breaking for the girl all over again.

"Of course I didn't forget about you. Where have you been? A new home? Are you alright?"

Emma had to laugh at how Regina sounded like a worried parent through the phone, but given her current situation, it was nice to be worried about at all.

"I'm okay. I went to a group home a few days after the last time we talked, 'cause I told my social worker how they were leaving me home alone. I was there for a couple weeks then went to this new house, but Regina, they were terrible," Emma explained.

"They _were_ terrible? You're not there anymore?" Regina asked, to clarify, as the idea crossed her mind for a split second that if she were still in a terrible home, Regina should hop on a plane to Minnesota and bring her home with her.

But that would be crazy.

"No," Emma confirmed. "I, uh, I ran away."

"You ran away? Emma, where are you now?"

"Um, well I met a friend. Another girl. She's like me, an orphan. And my age. And a runaway. And she's been on her own for a while and she showed me how to survive. We, um, we kinda broke into this summer cottage and we're crashing here. No one's gonna come here for a few months, so it's safe."

"Emma!" Regina gasped, in disbelief at what she was hearing. "You can't just stay at a cottage alone! You're only thirteen!"

Emma swallowed hard. She had guessed Regina's reaction would be like this, and she'd debated even calling her at all. But the truth was, she didn't feel safe at all and she desperately needed to hear the woman's comforting voice. Calling from the last home hadn't been an option, but Emma figured the people who owned the cottage wouldn't get their phone bill right away and she and Lily would be long gone by the time they did.

"I, uh, I gotta go," Emma stammered, her nerves getting the best of her. She knew there was no way she was going to convince Regina this was a good idea, and if she stayed on the phone much longer she knew she would break down and call her social worker and end up in yet another home that didn't want her.

"Emma, please don't hang up."

Emma cringed and hung up the phone anyway, fearing she'd just made a huge mistake.

Regina had call display, what were the odds she'd call the police and give them the number Emma had just called from, and inform them of the location of two thirteen year old runaways?

Emma bit her lip as she tiptoed back to the large bed where Lily was still sleeping, and climbed back in. She wondered if she should wake Lily up and tell her what had just happened, so they could run again, but she didn't want to risk making her first and only friend hate her for screwing this up.

So she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force herself to sleep, and hoped that Regina would leave well enough alone.

* * *

It was another two weeks before Regina saw another unfamiliar Minnesota number on her call display again. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday, and her heart skipped a beat.

After she'd called the police and gave them the number of the cottage to have Emma and her friend picked up, she really didn't expect to ever hear from the girl again.

But she really hadn't had another choice. She couldn't let Emma suffer as a homeless teenager, even if Emma thought it was the best thing for her.

"Hello, Emma," Regina said, tentatively, into the phone. She had no doubt that Emma was the caller, even if she didn't recognize the number.

"Hi," came the quiet response.

"Are you okay?"

There was a long pause, and Emma finally answered. "Yeah. I'm at a new house now. Something happened."

"What happened, Emma?" Regina asked, as the idea suddenly struck her that perhaps Emma hadn't put two and two together to figure out it was her who had called the police.

"Well, it turns out that friend I had? Lily? She was lying to me."

"Lying? About what?"

"She wasn't an orphan. Not really. She got adopted as a baby. That cottage we were staying in? It was actually her parents'. They found out we were there and came and got her, and called CPS on me. I think it was my fault."

"Emma, how could that possibly be your fault?" Regina asked.

"Well, I dunno, maybe 'cause I used the phone? I mean, no one was supposed to be there, so maybe the phone company called them? I don't know… I don't know how else they figured it out but they showed up and Lily's dad was really pissed."

Regina bit her lip. She debated for a moment telling Emma that she had called, and likely the police called the owner of the phone line the number she gave them was connected to. Then again, perhaps it was better if Emma didn't know, since she was still willing to talk to her at this point.

"Maybe you're right, but you can't blame yourself, Emma. That girl had parents, and they would have found her eventually either way."

"Yeah, I guess. It was all Lily's idea, though, but her dad still acted like it was my fault. He called me a street rat and told me to stay away from her," Emma continued.

"Oh, Emma… you're not a street rat. You're-"

"No, it's okay. That's not what bothered me," Emma said, cutting Regina off before she could start listing Emma's good attributes.

"What was it then?" Regina asked, when the girl wasn't immediately forthcoming.

"Um, nothing," Emma replied, offhandedly. "I'm in a new house now."

"Yes, you said that. Is it okay?" Regina asked, silently willing Emma to tell her everything was great and she was happy.

"So far, it's alright. The other kids here are kind of tools, but the mom, she's alright. She's a single woman, her name's Ingrid. She's nice to me, and I was gonna run away on my first night but she kinda talked me out of it."

"I'm glad, Emma. I know you think you'll be better off alone, but you need a home."

"Yeah, I know. It's the finding one that's the hard part."

Regina nodded silently to herself, unsure of what to say to that. She supposed it really wasn't all that easy, and Emma was at the mercy of the foster system. She got no say in where she went. It was all the luck of the draw.

She couldn't imagine how damaging that must be for a child.

"And you're allowed to use the phone there?" Regina asked, finally, not wanting the conversation to diminish to nothing.

"Yeah. Ingrid's kinda cool like that. I think she kinda likes me better than the other kids here, but I don't wanna get my hopes up, you know?"

"I know."

"There's something else I kind of want to tell you, but I don't know if I should," Emma said, tentatively. "But I don't know who else to tell. I don't have friends."

"Neither do I," Regina agreed. "You can tell me anything, Emma."

"You won't judge me?" Emma asked, hopefully.

Regina let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, trust me, I'm the last person on earth who should be passing judgment on anyone. But I only want you to tell me if you want to."

Emma paused for a moment, deciding what she should do, before finally thinking up a compromise. "How bout this? I tell you something, then you gotta tell me something. It's called quit per crow," Emma insisted.

" _Quid pro quo_?" Regina asked.

"That's what I said."

"I'm quite sure it wasn't."

"Whatever. Either way, it means if you want me to tell you something, then you gotta tell me something."

"Yes, actually you're right about that," Regina acknowledged.

"So are you in?"

Regina smiled to herself, shaking her head. "Fine. But you have to go first, so I can decide what sort of confession would be equal to yours."

"Do you really have that many confessions to pick from?" Emma asked, and Regina couldn't tell if she was teasing, or actually wondering the answer.

"Secret. Spill it," Regina prompted, opting not to answer the question at all.

"Okay, here goes," Emma sighed, taking a few more breaths before finally speaking again. "That night that I spent in the cottage with Lily…. I kissed her."

Regina had to smile to herself at how young and innocent Emma sounded. Of all the things she expected the girl to confess, that hadn't even crossed her mind. "You did?"

"Yeah. All the girls I know, they're all into boys and I'm not and I though maybe something was wrong with me, but then Lily… she told me she likes girls and I just kinda… went for it."

"And did you like it?"

"Yeah," Emma replied, blushing. "But it doesn't matter now because she's long gone and I'll never see her again. Now it's your turn."

Regina thought for a moment, debating on what kind of confession she could make that was on par with Emma's and also appropriate to reveal to a thirteen year old. In the end, the choice was obvious. "I've kissed a girl, too."

"Really?" Emma asked, more excited than Regina had expected. Then again, she guessed the girl was likely relieved that they had something in common and she wasn't weird.

"Yes, really. Several times, actually, but… maybe those are stories for when you're a bit older, hmm?"

"You'll still talk to me when I'm older?"

"I don't see why not," Regina replied, with a shrug. "We may have met in an unconventional way, but the way I see it, we both need a friend, don't we?"

"I know I do," Emma admitted. "But, it's almost dinner time, I should go… maybe I'll call you again in a couple days. Maybe I'll tell you why Lily's dad upset me so much."

"I hope you do."

"Bye, Regina," Emma said, with a small smile on her face.

"Goodbye, Emma."

Emma continued to smile, even after she hung up the phone. When CPS had picked her up from Lily's parents' cottage, she thought it was game over for her. Yet, two weeks later, here she was, in a home with a decent mother who seemed to genuinely care about her, and a woman in another state who wanted to be her friend.

As much as Lily's betrayal still stung, Emma couldn't help but think this was the best situation she'd ever been in. Maybe things were about to start working out for her.

Because, really, it was about time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

True to her word, three days later, Emma did call Regina again. However, instead of Regina's relieved voice - she always seemed relieved to hear from Emma lately - Emma got the all-too-familiar voicemail greeting instead.

Emma debated, while waiting for the beep, whether she should leave a message or just try again later. For a split second, she thought about leaving a prank message, for old time's sake, but in the end she went for the standard: "Hi, it's Emma. Just wanted to say 'hi'," before hanging up.

She figured she'd try again tomorrow, so she was surprised when, two hours later, the phone rang, and she heard Ingrid call up the stairs for her.

Emma headed down, slightly confused since no one ever called her, but Ingrid was standing there holding the cordless phone, her hand over the speaker.

"Emma, there's a woman on the phone for you. She says her name is Regina," Ingrid said, looking slightly hesitant to hand the phone over, but Emma's face lit up as she reached for the phone. Ingrid sighed and handed it over, and Emma grinned, taking the phone with her as she dashed back up the stairs.

"Hi!" Emma said, excitedly into the phone, once she was back in her room with the door closed. "I didn't expect you to call back!"

"Of course I would call back," came Regina's reply. "Was that your foster mother on the phone?"

"Ingrid, yeah."

"She sounds nice."

"She is. This place is pretty good, actually. I even have my own room 'cause all the other kids here right now are boys. I've never had that before," Emma explained. "So… it's nice."

"I bet. How have you been?"

"Good. I started a new school here, and I think I might try out for the track team. I think… well, it's good," Emma said, deciding to leave out that she thought, for once, this felt like someplace she might actually be able to stay at for longer than a few months.

Never in her life had she been in a place where the foster mother took this much interest in her, or treated her like she was part of her family and not just a house guest overstaying her welcome. She didn't quite know how to explain that to Regina, however, as she could only assume the woman had never known what it felt like to be an outsider in her own life.

"I'm glad to hear that, Emma."

"Yeah. So how have you been? Anything new and exciting?" Emma asked. As much as she liked Regina taking an interest in her as well, she didn't have much experience talking about herself, especially not to someone who was actually listening.

"Oh, well, nothing much ever really happens around my town," Regina said, with a sigh. "It gets boring."

"It must get boring," Emma agreed. "That's why you spend your free time talking to a kid."

Regina let out a small laugh. "Yes. Actually, boring is an understatement, really."

"So, um…" Emma said, hesitating before bringing up what she really wanted to talk about. "There was something I wanted to tell you, last time."

"About Lily's father and why he upset you?" Regina suggested.

"You remembered that?"

"Emma, of course I remembered."

"Oh. I'm not really used to people listening when I talk," Emma admitted. "That wasn't what I wanted to tell you. I just wanted to tell you thanks, you know, for worrying about me and stuff."

"You're welcome, dear. I would still like to talk about Lily's father, though, if you would?"

Emma bit her lip and fiddled nervously with the buttons on her shirt with her free hand. She let out a long sigh, and then figured she might as well just tell Regina. It wasn't like she _knew_ her anyway, not in person, so it was okay to talk about things like that, she supposed. It wasn't like she had anyone else to tell.

"Well," Emma started, finally, "what upset me was… he acted just like a dad."

"Okay," Regina said, tentatively, clearly not understanding where Emma was getting at. "How did you expect him to act?"

"Just like that… but… I don't know, it was like me and Lily had this connection, because she was like me, you know? But it wasn't real, not really, because she has everything I ever wanted, and she ran away from it anyway."

"Emma, having parents doesn't ensure that she has an ideal life," Regina pointed out.

"Right but… it's even more than that. He was so worried about her, and he blamed me and he didn't even care what would happen to me. I mean, he doesn't know me so why should he care, right? But I just thought… I don't know, what would you do if you had a kid, and your kid had a friend who was in trouble?"

"I suppose I would try to help her," Regina replied. "But perhaps he thought calling CPS was the way to help you?"

"I guess," Emma said, with a shrug.

"And you ended up in a better situation, correct?"

"Yeah," Emma admitted. "But I could have ended up in a worse situation, you know?"

"I know," Regina said, with a small sigh. "But if that had been the case, you could have called me."

"What could you do? You don't even live here."

"Emma. Please promise me something: if you ever end up in a bad situation again, call me, alright?"

"Okaaay," Emma said, a little whinier than necessary.

"Emma."

"Okay. I will. Promise."

* * *

"Who was that on the phone?" Ingrid asked, coming into Emma's room after she'd gotten off the phone with Regina.

"Just a friend," Emma said, with a shrug.

"A friend? That was a grown woman, Emma. Who is she?" Ingrid asked, crossing the room quickly and sitting down on Emma's bed with her. Something about her eyes was a little more intense than Emma was used to, and suddenly she worried that perhaps the other shoe was about to drop with Ingrid.

It always did, eventually, didn't it?

"She's just… someone I know," Emma insisted.

"Emma, it's my job to be responsible for you, and part of that includes knowing who you talk to," Ingrid said, with a small, forced smile.

"She's… she's someone I used to know when I was younger," Emma said, deciding on the spot that lying was her best option right now. "She was a neighbour, at an old foster home I was in, and she was really nice to me but she moved away to Maine and sometimes she checks in on me to make sure I'm okay."

"How did she get this number?"

"I called her from here, once, just to say 'hi'. I left a message and she must have call display or something," Emma said, with a shrug. "She just wanted to make sure everything was fine."

Ingrid nodded slowly, studying Emma's face before finally smiling a genuine smile. "Well, if she calls again I'll tell her she has nothing to worry about. You're more than fine, here, Emma. I'm going to make sure that you're safe and happy."

Emma nodded, and made a mental note to tell Regina not to call again, the next time she called her. Ingrid could intercept incoming calls, but she couldn't stop Emma from calling Regina.

* * *

It had been nearly a week since their last conversation, and to Regina's surprise, she found herself fighting the urge to call Emma again. It wasn't out of worry this time, it was out of pure boredom. Nothing ever changed in Storybrooke, and Regina was quickly learning that she'd cursed herself just as much as she'd cursed everyone else. Maybe even more so, because the rest of the denizens weren't even aware of the endless loop they were trapped in.

Though she wished, perhaps, she could have a friend in the outside world a little closer to her own age, chatting with Emma still brightened her day and made her forget everything else, if only for a short time.

She decided to call.

It was a Thursday night, around eight p.m., so she knew Emma would still be awake.

"Hello?"

Regina recognized Ingrid's voice immediately, and for a moment she wondered if she should greet the woman by name, but she decided against it.

"Hello. I was wondering if I might speak to Emma?" Regina asked, politely.

"Regina, right?" Ingrid asked, sounding more than a little apprehensive.

"Yes, that's right. Is Emma home?"

"Yes, but… I think you and I need to have a quick chat."

"Really? About what?"

"Emma told me that you call to check in on her, and, while she appreciates the gesture and so do I, I don't think it's really necessary anymore," Ingrid explained.

"I see. Is that how Emma feels?" Regina asked, feeling her own defenses going up.

"Emma is a thirteen year old girl and you're a grown woman. She should have friends her own age. I can assure you that she is safe and happy here, you don't need to worry about her," Ingrid replied, her voice sounding a little bit too sickly sweet to be genuine, in Regina's opinion.

"I see. Well, with all due respect… Ingrid, is it?"

"Yes."

"With all due respect, Ingrid, I've known Emma longer than you have and I don't think it's fair to just push me out of her life. You've only had her a couple of weeks. Is it really the best idea to cut her off from someone who's been a constant in her life?"

"Everything I do, I do with Emma's best interests in mind. She's fine. Just let it go."

Regina opened her mouth to speak again, but was instantly cut off by the dial tone. She slammed her phone back down and picked it right back up, redialing Ingrid's number, only to reach the busy signal. She tried twice more before giving up, deciding perhaps instead of calling back and laying into this woman who was Emma's new guardian, she should just wait until Emma called her back herself.

Because she would call again, wouldn't she?

* * *

"Who was on the phone?" Emma asked, as she came into the kitchen where Ingrid was busy working on dishes from dinner. When she'd heard the phone ring, she had hoped perhaps it was Regina, until she realized that if it was, that meant Ingrid was likely telling her not to call anymore.

She should have called Regina first.

"Oh, no one, honey. Just a telemarketer. I just called the phone company to have the number blocked, so they won't be bothering us anymore," Ingrid explained, with a warm smile. "Here, why don't you grab a towel and help me with the dishes? Then maybe we can watch a movie?"

Emma smiled and nodded. Tomorrow, she decided, she would call Regina. Tonight, she could spend time with Ingrid, feeling like she was actually part of a family, for once.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

After school, the following day, Emma ran home in hopes to beat Ingrid home, as she was at work, and get to the phone to call Regina before Ingrid returned.

Of course Michael, one of the older boys, had skipped school in the afternoon and was tying up the line talking to his girlfriend.

"Michael! I need the phone! It's an emergency!" Emma insisted, but Michael just kicked his leg at her from his bed and told her to get out. Emma turned in a huff and slammed the door, knocking a picture frame from the wall with the force and cringing when she heard it break on the hardwood floor below.

"Crap," she muttered to herself and she bent down to pick up the larger pieces of glass before heading off in search of a broom and dustpan. She had the mess cleaned up entirely by the time Ingrid returned home from work, and she braced herself for meeting the woman's rage when she found out. She'd yet to hear Ingrid yell, but she could only assume it was coming.

Instead, Ingrid just smiled and told her it was alright. "It's just a frame, Emma, and I'm sure it was an accident, right? Don't worry about it."

Emma narrowed her eyes in confusion, but wasn't about to protest _not_ getting in trouble.

Still, she never got her hands on the phone that night. Or the night after. Or for the week that followed. Someone was either always on it, or Ingrid was taking her out. Emma didn't mind that, as Ingrid seemed to be taking a special interest in her in a way no other foster mother ever had, but still, she missed talking to Regina. She missed talking to Regina even more now that she had good things to tell her.

Finally, on a Thursday afternoon, nearly a week and a half after she'd last spoken to Regina, Emma took an alternate route on the walk home from school, and happened upon a phone booth. She didn't have any change, so she called collect.

* * *

Regina was just coming in the door from work when she heard her phone ringing. She recognized the Minnesota area code right away, but she didn't recognize the number, and her heart sank instantly, assuming that Emma had moved to yet another home.

"Hello?" Regina asked, as she picked up the receiver, and was met with an automated message.

" _This is a collect call from…._ It's Emma! _... Please press one to accept the charge…"_

Regina pressed one without a second thought, and waited to hear the line connect. "Emma?"

"Hey," came the girl's voice through the other end.

"Emma, what's wrong? Where are you?"

"Payphone," Emma said, with a small laugh. "I can't ever get the phone at Ingrid's house anymore because _Michael_ is always talking to his _girlfriend_."

Regina closed her eyes in relief and had to chuckle at the sound of pure annoyance in the voice on the other end of the line.

"How unfortunate," Regina said, sitting down on the couch and tucking her feet up under her. "How are things, otherwise?"

Regina opted to leave out the fact that she'd attempted to call on three separate occasions since speaking to Ingrid last time, and had met nothing but dead air on the other end of the line. It wasn't much of a stretch to guess that Ingrid had blocked her number. She had called the phone company to confirm that Emma could still make a call out to a blocked number, and decided there was no real reason to let this girl know what her foster mother had done.

After all, Emma stood a chance at a family with Ingrid, and that was something Regina couldn't possibly offer her, so who was she to throw up an unnecessary obstacle?

Regina listened as Emma told her about her new foster brothers and her new school and finally about her new foster mother.

"You like her?" Regina asked, most interested to know Emma's opinion on this woman.

"She's cool," Emma said, and Regina could hear the smile in her voice. "It's like… I dunno, she's like you, in a way."

"How so?" Regina asked. She'd spoken to this woman only briefly, but she didn't think they would have anything in common.

"She, like, listens to me, and stuff. Like you do. She thinks that things I say matter. Like maybe I matter, you know?"

"Of course you matter, Emma."

"Yeah, I guess, but… no one's ever really made me feel like I do, before you. And now Ingrid. I mean, it's like how I imagined a mom would be… well, not like my _actual_ mom, since she dropped me off on the side of the highway."

Regina frowned, imagining what kind of mother could possibly leave her child on the side of the road. Couldn't she have dropped Emma off at a hospital or even at the police station? Somewhere where she would have been safe?

"I'm so sorry, Emma," was all Regina could think to say.

"It's okay. It made the paper, you know? There was this little boy, too. He was like six or so I think. He found me and carried me from the edge of the woods to this diner in Maine. He said he didn't know who I was, he just found me," Emma recalled.

Regina felt a knot forming in her stomach for a whole different reason. This story was starting to sound alarmingly familiar. It couldn't be…

"When was that Emma? I think I remember hearing about this," Regina said, attempting to keep her voice even.

"1983. October 22nd," Emma stated. "They said they thought I was only a couple hours old, so that's my birthday, I guess."

Regina closed her eyes. Of course. Of course that's who Emma was. She'd woken up in Storybrooke on October 23rd and the story about the little lost baby had been on the front page of the paper. She'd been found by a little boy, Regina remembered that all too well, as well, since one little boy was notably absent from her town: _Pinocchio_.

She wasn't sure exactly _when_ the savior was supposed to return, or _how_ , but she suddenly realized that Emma's initial phone call must have been anything _but_ random. She had been directed by fate, to dial Regina's number.

And now she knew how to find her.

Could this be how the savior would return? She'd trace the Evil Queen's phone number and use it to track her down, come to Storybrooke, break the curse…

It wasn't fair. Regina had felt so drawn to this girl, inexplicably at first, and now it all made sense.

"Regina?" Emma asked, softly.

"Hmm?"

"You aren't saying anything."

"Sorry," Regina said, quickly, unsure of how long she'd remained silent on the line. "Yes, I do remember that story. I read about it in the paper."

"Yeah, um… maybe I should go," Emma suggested, sounding more than a little defeated.

"I'm sorry, Emma. I don't mean to be distracted," Regina said, quickly. Savior or not, Regina had still grown fond of this girl and she didn't want to hurt her feelings. "I had a stressful day at work, and you caught me just as I came in the door. Sometimes I have a hard time leaving it at the office."

"It's okay," Emma said, clearly buying Regina's hasty cover. "But I really should be getting home. Ingrid will start to worry."

"Yes, of course," Regina agreed.

"I'll call you again," Emma promised.

"Alright."

"Good bye, Regina."

"Good bye, Emma," Regina said, closing her eyes as she hung up the phone, quite sure this would be the last conversation she had with the girl.

It had to be.

She needed to protect her curse.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Regina missed several calls from Emma. Or, at least, she hoped Emma thought she was missing them. More often than not, she was home when the phone rang. She deleted her voicemails without listening to them, quite sure she would break at the sound of Emma's voice.

It was better this way. She needed to protect her curse and her revenge, but, if she were being honest, she needed to protect Emma as well. What would happen if the savior returned to break the curse?

It was better to just end things. Emma would be sad, she was sure, but she still had Ingrid and a new life with better prospects ahead of her. She'd be just fine. Maybe Ingrid would adopt her and maybe Emma would forget all about Regina.

Though Regina wasn't quite so convinced she'd forget about Emma.

As the weeks went on and turned into months, the phone call attempts became less frequent. They dwindled from two or three a week, to once a week, to once every couple of weeks, until they stopped all together.

When Regina had realized that nearly a month had gone by since her last missed call from Emma, she found it bittersweet. She was sure this is what she'd wanted to happen, but at the same time, every time Emma called, it reminded her that someone out there was actually reaching out to her. Someone wanted her. Someone thought she was a good person.

Someone was very, very wrong.

Emma deserved a better friend and confidant than her, anyway, Regina reasoned with herself. No one escaped Regina's life unscathed, and loving her only proved detrimental to anyone who dared try. She wasn't sure Emma loved her, really, but she also wasn't so sure that she didn't love Emma.

In the fifth week that Emma hadn't called, Regina was startled awake in the middle of the night when her phone rang. It was an out of state number, one that she didn't recognize. It certainly wasn't a Minnesota area code, but something deep inside her told her it was Emma.

And something deep inside told she should answer it.

"Hello?" Regina said, tentatively into the phone.

" _This is a collect call from…._ It'sEmmaPleasepickup! _... Please press one to accept the charge…"_

Regina bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment, before pressing one. Emma sounded truly panicked on the other end, and, curse or not, Regina had told her to call if she were ever in trouble.

"Emma," Regina said, her cracking voice betraying her nerves as she quickly cleared her throat and attempted again. "Emma. What's wrong?"

"You haven't picked up in months," Emma replied, quietly, the hurt quite evident in her voice.

"I'm sorry."

There was a long pause on the other end, and Regina had to wonder if perhaps Emma hadn't expected her to pick up at all. Of course she hadn't. Why would she? Regina really hadn't picked up in months.

She suddenly hated herself for it. Emma had been quite insistent that Regina had been the first person to make her feel like she mattered, and then she'd turned around and done something to show just the opposite.

And she couldn't even tell Emma _why_. She'd never understand, anyway.

"Emma?" Regina prompted, after a prolonged silence from the other end. She hadn't heard the dial tone yet, so she knew the girl was still on the line, she was just silent.

Regina heard a long sigh, and then: "Something happened."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

" _Something happened."_

Regina's heart dropped to her stomach at Emma's words. She had no idea what had happened, but she could tell by Emma's voice that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

"Emma? What? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I don't know!" Emma admitted, and Regina was sure the girl was about to cry at any moment.

"It's okay, Emma, it's alright. Just tell me what happened," Regina urged her. She chewed on her lip as she waited for Emma to respond, wondering if she had been in trouble all this time. What if any one of those phone calls had been Emma crying out for help and receiving only Regina's voicemail on the other end? Regina hadn't even listened to the messages, but she knew that Emma had gotten _her_ message loud and clear, and that message was that she didn't care.

Only, she did care. She could try to deny it all she wanted, but she did. Now she was terrified of what Emma was about to tell her, and, not for the first time, she wondered if she should tell Emma to stay put while she got a flight to Minnesota so she could bring her home with her.

Regina silently reminded herself that this was the Savior on the other end of the line, and bringing her to Storybrooke would mean utter disaster.

"Um… something happened with Ingrid. She wasn't… she wasn't a good person after all," Emma explained, though she seemed hesitant to go into detail, and Regina could only blame the newfound lack of trust on herself, as well.

"Are you still with her, Emma?"

"No."

"Are you someplace safe?"

"I'm, uh, I'm at a diner. I ran away, but I have a little bit of money for food. I'm okay."

Regina cringed, knowing the girl was anything but okay. But she could address that later. First, she needed to find out what happened.

"Emma, I'm sorry I haven't been answering the phone. I don't.. I don't even really have an explanation I can give you. But please, just tell me what happened."

"No. I want an explanation. Why haven't you been answering?"

Regina sighed, knowing there was no way she could tell Emma the truth. She had to think fast. "Well, I just… I didn't want to stand in the way of your new relationship with your foster mother. She asked me not to call you again, you know. And she blocked my number. I just thought that a clean break would make things easier on you, moving forward."

"You thought abandoning me would be easier on me?"

"I didn't… I didn't think I was abandoning you. I thought… well I thought Ingrid would be good for you, and I didn't want to complicate things."

There was a pause at the other end, as Emma processed what Regina was telling her.

"Things are already complicated."

"Please, just tell me. You called me for a reason."

"Yeah, cause I got no one else. And I don't even know if I have you anymore."

Emma's words cut into Regina, and for a moment, she thought she would be the one to cry first. "You do, Emma. I made a mistake and I'm so sorry. I promise, you do have me."

"Ingrid was gonna adopt me," Emma said, finally. "She had the paperwork and everything. She said I might not ever see her as a mother, but she could be like my big sister or something. I thought I was actually gonna have a chance to have a real family with someone who wanted _me_ and not just the subsidy money."

"Okay. But you said she wasn't a good person. What did she do?"

"She, um… we were out one night and she started talking about how I have magic? Like how I could be like Harry Potter? I don't know, it was weird and so unexpected and then she just… pushed me. She pushed me in front of a car."

"What?!" Regina gasped.

"Yeah, she said she thought I could stop it, with magic. I thought I was gonna get hit! I mean… I thought I might have a real family, finally, but… well, I guess someone would have to be crazy to want me, right?"

"No, Emma, no… oh, honey, someone would have to be crazy not to want you."

Regina's head was spinning with this new information. Was it possible that Emma did have magic? She supposed if she was a curse-breaking Savior, she must have magic. Rumple must have done _something_.

But now she was wondering even more how Ingrid could have possibly known. Was she from the Enchanted Forest? Regina knew that people had been lost in the curse, somehow. People were missing, and she'd assumed they'd all somehow remained in the Enchanted Forest. Was it possible that some had made it to this world, somewhere outside of Storybrooke? She knew she had Pinocchio and Emma out there, but how many more people from her world were here?

"But she's the only person who's ever wanted me, and she's nuts," Emma said, drawing Regina from her thoughts.

"That may be, Emma, but honey, that's on her, not you. I know it hurts and I know it doesn't make any sense, but maybe getting adopted by Ingrid wasn't your fate."

"My fate?"

"Yes."

"So what's my fate, then?"

"I don't know," Regina lied. "But something better is waiting for you."

"But how do you know? How could you possibly know that?"

"Because… you have a fighting spirit, Emma, I can tell. I went through a lot of hard times in my life as well, and I found strength in the struggle. You will, too."

"I wish I didn't have to," Emma admitted. "It's not fair that all I've ever known is struggle."

"Struggle teaches you how to survive, dear. In this life, those are skills you're going to need."

"Yeah, I guess so," Emma sighed. "But what am I going to do now?"

"You're going to call your social worker and get her to come pick you up. And you're going to start over."

There was another sigh on Emma's end, and Regina was aware that this was absolutely not what the girl wanted to hear.

"Emma, you know you don't have another choice. You're too young to be on your own."

"Yeah, I know. I'm just so sick of starting over… I mean, this felt like, so real. I don't know how I'm going to be able to hold onto any hope now. I'm almost fourteen… the older I get, the less chance I have of ever getting adopted. I'm gonna turn eighteen and I'm gonna be out on my own and then what?"

"I'll tell you what. If you're out on your own when you're eighteen, you call me and I will help you out. I have the resources, Emma. You're not going to starve or end up on the street. I promise you that."

"What about in the meantime?"

"I already told you what to do in the meantime," Regina reminded her. "You're going to call your social worker."

"No, I mean… what if I call you, in the meantime? Are you going to go back to ignoring me?"

"I wasn't ignoring you, Emma, but… no, I won't do that to you again. If you call, I will answer."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"I'm not sure I believe you."

"Well, I think that's fair, all things considered. But you'll see. I want you to hang up now and call your social worker, alright? And you call me when you get someplace safe."

"Okay. Bye Regina."

"Bye, Emma."

Regina sighed as she hung up the phone and leaned back on her pillows. Her heart ached for the poor girl she didn't even have a face for, and in many ways, Emma being lost and alone and crying out for help reminded Regina a lot of herself as a child.

Why did she have to be the Savior?

Bringing her to Storybrooke would ruin everything. Emma would break the curse and reunite with her parents, who Regina could only assume Emma would align with in the end. She'd likely end up in Rumple's cell in the Enchanted Forest, and she just couldn't let that happen.

No, she would instead keep her word and help Emma out financially if it came down to that. She could help the girl get an apartment and a life for herself and she wouldn't have to feel guilty about the little girl whose life was a disaster because of the curse.

After all, Regina reasoned, it wasn't her who'd put her through the wardrobe to that world in the first place.

Rationalizing really did little to absolve her guilt, but what other choice did she have at the moment?

* * *

It was mid-afternoon the next day when Regina's phone rang again.

"I'm in a group home," came Emma's disappointed voice from the other end of the line.

"Well, that's better than being on the street, is it not?"

"Obviously you've never been in a group home."

"No, I haven't. Is it that bad?"

"It's not the worst thing ever, I guess," Emma said, with a sigh. "But they have way too many girls and not enough space and… why can't you be a foster mother, Regina? It's not hard. You just take a course then you could come and pick me up!"

"Emma… I'm sorry. I just… it's not feasible. I'm a single woman and I work way too much. I would never be around."

"But still!"

"Emma."

"Right. Okay. It's fine. I'll be fine. I'm a survivor, right?"

"I think you are."

"Okay. Yeah. Alright. And thanks for picking up again."

"Always. I promise. I won't abandon you again, Emma."

"Thanks. I know it sounds strange but… I dunno, I feel less lonely here knowing you're only a phone call away, you know? Even if you're not actually here. It's like… if someone on the other side of the country can care about me, then maybe someone here could?"

"Of course someone could. You just haven't ended up in the right place yet. You'll get there."

"I'm running out of time," Emma reminded her.

"Have some faith, dear. Everything will work out."

Regina felt just a little better after ending this call than she had the night before. She was sure everything really would work out. In a few years time, she'd make sure Emma was set to start her adult life, and the Savior would have no reason to seek out Storybrooke or the Evil Queen in order to break the curse.

In fact, she was quite certain that Emma didn't have the slightest clue who she really was. And she certainly didn't believe in magic. Regina figured this was all to her advantage in the long run. The curse couldn't break if the Savior didn't come, so Regina decided she had to make sure the Savior never returned.

It didn't matter how badly she wanted to meet Emma one day. She'd have to settle for phone calls until the girl was grown up and ready to take on life on her own, then she supposed she'd have to forget about her all together.

After all, she reasoned, the pull she felt to the girl couldn't be real. It was likely something Rumple wrote into the curse. She could resist it. She just had to. And now, knowing exactly who the Savior was, she had an advantage in the situation. The curse would never break.

She really was going to win.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So, I had said I would do a Christmas chapter, but since that clearly didn't happen, how about an Independence Day chapter instead?**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

* * *

By summer, things had settled down in Emma's life again. Well, settled was a relative term, but she was in a new home with mediocre parents - not mean or terrible, not strict, but not overly attentive either - and she was trying hard to push the memories of Ingrid far back in her mind.

Om the fourth of July, her foster family loaded all the kids in the van - kids being an appropriate term, since at the age of fourteen, Emma was seven years older than the oldest child - and took them all to the local park for the Independence Day celebration.

By the first half hour in, Emma was bored out of her mind.

Her foster mother, Laura, found her leaning on a tree staring off into the distance after about an hour.

"Sorry, Emma," Laura said, with a sympathetic smile. "I didn't realize there'd be nothing here for teenagers to do."

Emma shrugged. "It's fine. Maybe I'll just go for a walk or something."

"Okay," Laura agreed, reaching into her purse to pull out some money. "Here, take some money in case you want to buy some food or something."

Emma smiled and put the money in her pocket before heading off in the other direction. Laura was nice enough, but she was just another foster mother. She had no interest in adopting her, and Emma had no interest in getting attached.

Emma kicked at the gravel on the ground as she walked. She was headed away from the park and the food vendors but she didn't care. She wasn't particularly hungry and there was nothing there for her anyway.

She wasn't familiar with this town, but there seemed to be a commercial area past the park, and she supposed maybe she could find something interesting to do there. It was still only mid-afternoon and her foster family intended to stay until after dark for fireworks, so she guessed she had plenty of time.

After about ten minutes of walking, Emma came across a small convenience store and headed inside. It was rare that she had money for things like candy and junk food, and Laura hadn't specified what kind of food she should buy. She picked a chocolate bar from the rack and headed up to the counter.

When the transaction was complete, the cashier handed her three quarters and Emma smiled to herself. "You, uh, you don't happen to have a payphone here, do you?"

The girl behind the counter shrugged, clearly disinterested. "I dunno, I think there's one around back."

"Thanks." Emma grabbed her chocolate bar and headed back outside.

Sure enough, once she rounded around the back of the store there was a payphone. Emma grinned as she spotted a few old plastic milk crates stacked against the wall, and grabbed two to make a seat for herself next to the phone.

A quick scan of the instructions on the front proved that three quarters would not be enough for a long distance call, and Emma sighed. She felt bad calling Regina collect again, but she hadn't talked to her since the night she'd been placed in the group home, and it had been a few months since then. She hoped Regina wouldn't mind.

* * *

According to the TV and newspapers, today was a big day in this realm, but Regina had little interest in the holidays of this world. What difference did it make to her if a country had declared its independence from another, when she'd never stepped foot outside of this little town she'd created?

Of course, the people of Storybrooke thought they were American, but there were no Fourth of July celebrations because they had no idea what day it was today. The endless loop of replaying the same day over and over and over was grating more and more on Regina with every passing day, to the point where she wondered if she'd be better off just letting Emma come here and break the curse, if only for an escape from the monotony.

Then again, living out the rest of her life in a prison cell would probably be just as boring, and at least she had her freedom.

Still, freedom wasn't even always enticing these days, and when her phone rang late that afternoon, Regina nearly jumped out of her chair to grab it. She smiled to herself when she saw the Minnesota area code, and picked it up before it could even ring a second time.

She quickly accepted the collect charges, and listened for the line to connect. "Hello, Emma."

"Hey," came the girl's voice from the other end of the line. "What's up?"

Regina settled back down onto her couch. "Oh, not much. Aren't you out enjoying the Fourth of July festivities in your city?"

Regina could have sworn she _heard_ the eyeroll in Emma's voice as she responded. "No, oh my God, it's so lame. My foster family brought me to a park with a bouncy castle and a petting zoo."

"You don't like animals?"

"I'm fourteen! I don't wanna be petting goats with four year olds."

"Fair enough."

"Fireworks are alright, I guess," Emma admitted. "But they don't start til later. My foster mother said I could go for a walk, so I walked to a store with a payphone. I figured you might be just as bored as I am."

"You figured right."

"Nothing exciting going on in your town today?"

"Fireworks celebrations aren't really for me. I don't see the attraction of watching explosions."

"Well, they're pretty to look at."

"I suppose." Regina figured she'd have to take Emma's word on that, since she'd never witnessed fireworks anyplace other than on TV, and she just couldn't see the appeal. "So tell me, dear, what else is new in your life? Are things getting better?"

"Things are okay, I guess. I'm off school for the summer now, which is nice."

"You don't like school?"

"It's hard to do well when I have to switch so often. It really sucks because I try hard but I just can't keep up, you know? Plus, all the girls just want to talk about boys and dating and make-up."

"And you're not into those things?"

"No… um, Regina. There's something I wanted to ask you. Remember when you told me that you kissed a girl once?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Um… does that mean… um, like… are you…"

"Are you trying to ask me if I'm a lesbian?"

There was a long pause on the other end, before a tiny, "um, yes?"

Regina smiled to herself as she thought about how to answer the question. One of the things she'd never expected about this realm was how much everyone concerned themselves with labels, being this or that with no in between. But how was she supposed to explain to a fourteen year old who grew up in a land without magic that her second great love affair had been with a dragon?

"I suppose the most appropriate label would be pansexual; I can feel attraction toward anyone, regardless of gender."

Another pause. "Oh. And that's, like, okay?"

"Of course it's okay. I know it's hard, feeling like you're different than everyone else, but Emma, it is okay."

"I feel like no one else could possibly get me. I'm not like them… and I don't mean just this. I'm just… different. You know, Ingrid might have been batshit crazy, but like… sometimes weird stuff does happen around me."

"There are things in this world beyond our comprehension, Emma. There's always things that can't be explained."

"I guess," Emma agreed. "I don't want to talk about me anymore. Tell me more about you."

Regina settled back against the cushions of her couch as she began talking. It was rare in her own life that anyone had ever wanted to listen to her, a feeling which she knew Emma understood all too well, so it wasn't surprising when Emma wanted to hear all about the mundane details of her life. She described her house, her town, her day to day routine as mayor, and Emma hung on every word.

"This must be boring you," Regina said, finally, when she'd run out of things to tell Emma about.

"It's really not. I like your voice. I could listen to you all day," Emma insisted. "But, if you want, you could always tell me about that girl you kissed."

Regina smirked. "I told you that's a story for when you're older."

"I am older. I'll be fifteen in a couple months."

"Older than that. What's that sound?" Through the phone, Regina could hear some sort of banging or crashing from Emma's end.

"Fireworks are starting. The sun is down here."

"Oh, honey, you should go find your foster family. I don't want you wandering around in the dark alone."

"It's fine. I'm only a couple minutes from the park. I can see the fireworks from here. That last one was huge, green and blue with some fizzly red spots all around the outside."

"That does sound pretty," Regina admitted. And she listened as Emma continued to describe every firework that went off after that. She wasn't sure that she'd ever appreciate fireworks, but Emma's voice was so light and carefree when she talked about them, and that Regina could appreciate.

She thought back to when she was fourteen going on fifteen, and what it was like to want something different than the path that was laid out before her. She cursed the fact that Emma was the savior again. Why did this girl have to be the one person who could be her undoing? Emma was the first person since Daniel who'd ever taken and interest in her for who she was, and not who she was supposed to be, and that irony wasn't lost on Regina.

Soon enough, however, the fireworks were over, and Regina insisted that Emma needed to go back to the park now, no matter how much she'd have liked to sit and chat with her all night.

"I guess, if I have to," Emma finally begrudgingly agreed.

"You know where to find me next time you're near a phone, dear. It's not goodbye, it's just good night."

"Right. Okay. Good night, Regina."

"Good night, Emma."

* * *

Emma hung up the payphone with a sigh, and grabbed her chocolate bar from her pocket as she headed back to the park. There was a frenzy of people, but eventually she found Laura again. Her foster mother looked frantic.

"Emma! Where have you been? You've been gone for hours."

"I went for a walk. You said I could."

"I expected you back before the fireworks started!"

Emma gaped at her. "You didn't tell me that. You said I could take a walk, and I did."

"I've been worried sick. Get in the van."

Emma sighed as she headed toward the parking lot. Laura didn't have to say it, but she knew she'd be calling her social worker in the morning. She'd been down this road a hundred times before, and the older she got, the less leeway she got with mistakes or miscommunications. She was well aware that her file was flagged, and her behaviour was considered 'problematic', but it was hard to keep up when the rules were different every place she went, and everyone just assumed she'd know exactly how to act in every new situation.

She slumped back in the middle of the backseat, between two booster seats occupied by over-sugared and over-tired children. One was crying and the other was hitting her with an inflatable sword that squeaked every time it connected with the top of her head, and Emma just closed her eyes.

Who knew where she'd end up tomorrow, but Regina was right: Emma knew where to find her, or at least how to reach her, and that made everything else just a little more tolerable.


End file.
